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Updated: May 18, 2025
He was too busy with thoughts of his amazing good- fortune, his mind was too dazzled by the joy of freedom. Allan appeared from somewhere and clung to him in an ecstasy of delight. Colonel Jolson, Runnels, Anson, even the Panamanian officials shook hands with him. He accepted their congratulations mechanically, meanwhile keeping very close to his father's side.
Ostensibly to the hotel lobby they were as casual as, "My mulligatawny soup was cold to-night," or, "Have you heard the new one that Al Jolson pulls at the Winter Garden?" But actually the roar was higher than ever in Mrs. Samstag's ears and he could feel the plethoric red rushing in flashes over his body.
Cortlandt laughed lightly. "That is part of his business." "How so?" "He is one of Colonel Jolson's secret agents." "Who is Colonel Jolson?" "Chairman of the Isthmian Canal Commission. Your father knows him." "Do you mean that Stein is a detective?" Kirk looked uncomfortable. "I do! Does he know you are the son of Darwin K. Anthony?" "Why, yes, I suppose so." "Colonel Jolson will be interested."
When news of this reached the members of the Canal Commission, they were alarmed, and Colonel Jolson felt it necessary to make known their views upon the situation. Accordingly, a few nights later, the Cortlandts dined at his handsome residence on the heights above Culebra.
You see, a good many men rush through life without looking to right or left, and so they miss a lot of opportunities." Jolson clucked to his horse and rattled away down the road, muttering sour remarks. The old gentleman, with the air of a man who has satisfied his philanthropic ambitions, climbed into his chaise and followed the farmer.
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